Twisted Metal: A World Gone Mad
by Rocketlord6485
Summary: Twisted Metal - The First Game with a deep storyline involving Calypso, Sweet Tooth, and all the original competitor. Rate M for swearing, graphic violence, and other future elements. I hope you enjoy!


(This is based of of the events for the original Twisted Metal with more character depth, actual emotion, and additional storyline. Some plot elements will be tweaked, and the setting will be set to the year 2011 rather than 2005. Enjoy!)

"_Italic" = **Thoughts**_

"Standard" = **Speech**

Twisted Metal: A World Gone Mad – Chapter 1: A Nightmare's Resurface

**DATE: SATURDAY, DECEMBER 24th, 2011**

**TIME: 12:03 PM**

**PLACE: Los Angeles, Abandoned Warehouse **

"_My soul is split. Its the only believable delusion. Its the only delusional belief. I can't help but let my mind fall victim to hatred. My own Hatred. It's a curse I can never rid of. But . . . I wasn't born like this. In fact, I was born . . . a lot worse. Yet I still remain public enemy number one in the eyes of the so called 'innocent'. If those mother fuckers only realized that I'm an unstoppable entity, then this world would be plunged into carnage. The Carnage I lust for. The Carnage that makes me who I am, but at the same time, who I am not. Who am I? I am Needles Kane. Who am I not? I've yet to discover. Like I said, my soul . . . is split."_

Needles slowly opened his twitching eyes, his thoughts discarded. He gazed around the empty, forsaken, worn down warehouse room. The clown couldn't help but sigh. The peace and serenity was . . . soothing. But another familiar sensation was manipulating his mind again. He touched his painted face, and could feel his skin trembling with desire. It was time to strike again.

From the colossal room's entrance, a skinny middle aged thug with a clown mask, hastily rushed towards his master. "Sweet Tooth! We've gotta get the hell out of here! The cops are ambushing the place! If they find us, we'll end up back in the backfield-" But his panicked words were suddenly silenced. The thug looked down to find that dagger had swiftly pierced into his chest . . . and out the other side. He gasped, unable to breathe as a clod of blood spilled out from his mouth. "Why?", He gasped at his master, before collapsing to the ground.

Needles quietly stood up, and began to pace over his follower's deceased body as the sirens of the Los Angeles Police Department SWAT team grew nearer. "I'm not a fan of dejects.", The voice of the clown hissed at the body. _"Loyalty. Is that really so much to ask for?", _The thought taunted. _"As if such a question could truly be answered."_ He reached down to reclaim his lucky dagger, and set his attention upon more obedient clown mob of allies whom were entering the room. He kicked the body aside, and starred at his comrades. "Report. But this time . . . more optimistic."

"They're here, Master.", Quaker, his second in command, acclaimed. Thank god he had remembered to address him as master. "Whats the plan?"

"Leave the party crashers to me.", Needles instructed in his soft but senile voice. "Pull the truck into position and open fire at my signal."

Quaker nodded. He owed his loyalty to Sweet Tooth. They both shared a hatred for the world. And ever since their corroboration almost 3 months ago, they appeared to be . . . unstoppable. _"Criminal Minds . . . think alike, I suppose."_

Without any further words, Needles marched onwards, leaving his lackeys to regroup in the hidden garage beneath the ground.

"Needles Kane and Allies!", Hollered a male Speakerphone voice from outside. "We have the place surrounded! Come out and surrender yourselves immediately!"

…_..._

Outside the Warehouse, dozens of SWAT Team gunners and Police officers surrounded the premises, their weapons braced and directed at the building entrance.

28 Year Old Sergent Carl Roberts of the LA Police Department stood his ground. His sister, officer Jamie Roberts, stood at his side with her handgun parallel to his as she pointed it forward. "You're finally gonna meet the poor bastard.", Carl silently chuckled to his younger sibling. "You ready for this." Now he felt as if he was challenging his sister.

"Please, Carl.", 23 Year Old Jamie mocked, rolling her eyes. "I can handle a clown. I'm not 12 anymore." Or at least she thought. Overcoming fears is one thing. Repressing the is completely different. She knew this of course, but could only reject the concept.

"Yeah . . . but he's not like most clowns.", Carl explained, highlighting the obvious.

"No shit.", She laughed, elbowing him. _"Why does he insist on me being a little teenage girl?"_

But just then, the Killer Clown himself was slowly stepping out of the warehouse entrance. He halted at the top of the flight of stairs, just staring at the angry officers below, with a blade emerging from his hand hidden behind his back.

"Put the weapon down, and put your hands in the air!", Carl shouted furiously, with his gun pointed at the psycho. But this was no attempt to impress his sister. He had heard of Sweet Tooth many times in both the media and personal stories, and now, it was his turn to avenge his lost friends. He was not about to show any fear.

But Jamie was . . . actually frightened. The appearance of this man was truly demonic. His round clown nose was completely sprayed with blood. The Clown's face guised as an angry painted emotion of evil, his hair green as toxic, and his body brutally scarred and bruised. He was shirtless, a little muscular, with only a two chest straps heaving his baggy pants. Baggy pants that resembled the garments of a Circus Clown . . . but this villain's attire was covered in blood marks that almost entirely blockaded any sight of childish ice cream cone cartoons. _"Who the hell is this freak?"_

"Is said put the weapons down!", Carl pressed on, approaching the menace.

Jamie quickly pulled her brother back, refusing to let him go further. "Carl, don't!" Fear had suddenly changed her attitude.

He was a bit surprised, but had no choice but to shove her back. "Jamie, stay in position! I'll handle this!"

"Be a good girl and listen to you brother.", Needles cackled. "Be a good girl and you'll get a very . . . special treat."

Jamie was now horror stricken. "Carl . . just get away from him! Something isn't right!"

"Come closer!", Needles aggressively whispered, trying to provoke Carl. "Come, and kill me! It's what you want . . . so do it! You know you want you! After all your police friends I destroyed, I think you deserve a bit of . . . revenge, right?"

Carl halted, unable to take another step. "Your killing days are over you son of a bitch.", He motioned his head at the Swat Team. "Take him out!", he ordered.

The forces behind readied their guns, and prepared to fire. But they were suddenly distracted. A gentle noise was approaching from behind Needles. A gentle tune. The ringing tune of . . . Turkey In The Straw.

"Do you hear that?", Needles inquired, though knowingly aware of the situation about to ensue. "Well officers, you special treat . . . has arrived."

Suddenly, a massive detonation overwhelmed the Warehouse into a tide of deadly flames.

All the officers and troops yelped, before quickly taking cover or being pulsed away.

Jamie hurriedly grabbed her brother's hand, and dragged hi, away before he could be crushed by a giant pile of falling rubble.

Needles laughed malevolently. A laugh that was indescribably violent and intimidating. The clown waved his arms, as an Ice Cream Truck derived from the flames behind. He took his time to walk calmly around the vehicle and board with ease. "Good work, boys.", He rasped to his men behind. Next to him in the passenger seat, Quaker sat patiently. Needles smiled, and decided upon a new plan before taking the wheel. "Quaker, I feel these officers must suffer a rather slow and painful death, wouldn't you agree?"

Quaker nodded automatically, undaring to defy his master. "Yes, Master. What are your orders-"

"Kill them.", Snapped the killer clown. "All of you, kill them."

"But . . . master? Why not just-"

"Amusement can be a convincing priority.", Needles riddled, lightly petting his blade with his fingers. _"And noble sacrifices . . . play a major role in the process." _

After a moment's hesitation, Quaker decided to follow through. He turned to his men cramped in the back of the truck. "Alright listen! The master has assigned to lay waste to all the officers outside! Now let's go!" He leaped out of the truck and joined with his desolating forces.

From inside the truck, Needles began to hum a childhood tune. A tune that his father would always sing him to sleep with; Turkey In The Straw. As he watched his squad approach the recovering authorities up ahead, he began to creep his pointer finger along the switch that triggered the Truck's melody. He turned his eyes back at his allies, who were shanking several Police Officers. _"Yes . . . now I've earned myself a special treat." _His finger than elicited the switch, and at that moment, a barrage of Ice Cream Cone Napalms began to massacre everyone in sight; including his 'friends'. Needles tapped on the switch repeatedly, as the truck continued to open fire. He could hear both the screams of betrayal and desperation as he began to hum along to the playing Ice Cream Truck Melody. The very same one from his childhood. He couldn't help but close his eyes in ecstasy upon hearing blood splatter across the front shield window. _"I can live like this for eternity." _But unfortunately, it only took but a few more minutes for the screams to fade away into utter nothingness. He ceased fire. And everything went dead silent. Only the hissing flames from behind managed to break the silence. _"Pity. I was just getting into it." _Needles then stepped on the pedal and the truck raced forward through the spreading flames, leftover carnage, and the demolished vehicles of the law. He could only smile deviously. He was truly satisfied. His reputation would spike up as the world's most terrifying nightmare again. But this time . . . . in the eyes of the innocent. _"It's a curse . . . I can never rid of."_

The Ice Cream Truck then dispersed the area, leaving total inhalation behind . . . with only two survivors.

TO BE CONTINUED . . . . . . .

(Well, hopefully to be continued. It all depends on how well this does with the reviewers. Hopefully I did an OK job. I would very much like to continue this story. This chapter was only but a 'pilot episode' if you will. That is why it only featured Sweet Tooth and Carl Roberts, two of the many competitors from the first game. But the rest will come if I do get far with this. Thank you anyway, to those whom are just reading for the heck of it.)


End file.
